20 Years Later (7 page)

Zane never ceased to be fascinated by the weaponry Luthor carried at all times. A bow on his back next to the quiver always full of thick arrows fletched with red feathers. At his left hip hung a huge sword in a scabbard, and strapped to his left thigh was a long dagger. Another smaller one, for skinning, hung from his belt.

This morning, the box was tucked under Luthor's arm as usual, but something was very different. Luthor was looking at Zane in such a way that pinned the boy to the spot as if the Hunter had thrown a spear through him.

Miri's sharp eyes rarely missed anything aimed at her son. “You're early,” she said. “I wasn't expecting you for a while yet.”

Luthor made a dismissive grunt at the back of his throat and held out the box to her. She took it and, voice quivering, said, “It may take a little while. I haven't prepared everything.”

He nodded curtly, still staring at Zane, who began to squirm under the pressure of his gaze. Miri lingered, uncomfortable with Luthor's focus on her son.

“Is there something else?” she asked in a quiet voice.

Luthor pursed his lips as if he had tasted something sour, not taking his eyes off Zane for a moment, and said, “The Red Lady wants to see your son. Now.” It was the first time Zane had ever heard his voice. It was even deeper than Callum's but didn't have any kindness to smooth away its harsh edges.

Miri wanted to speak, but the words died on her lips before they could be heard.

Zane stood, very slowly, watching his mother's panic. “Why does she want to see me?” he asked as confidently as he could manage.

Luthor's brow formed into a deep frown, casting an even darker shadow over his deep-set eyes as if they were overhung by a treacherous cliff. “That is for the Red Lady to speak to you about,” he said gruffly, as if personally offended by the question.

Miri regained control over her tongue once more and said, “If you wait here, Zane can help me get things ready more quickly.”

Luthor raised a suspicious eyebrow at her, but then shrugged, ultimately disinterested. “I leave in five minutes, with Zane and the box.” He looked at it held in her shaking hands and added, “He will be returned to you by nightfall. I will escort him there and back. He will be safe.”

His words did nothing to reassure her, but under the pressure of his gaze she caught hold of Zane's hand and pulled him into the house. She shut the door behind them and locked it. After carefully placing the box on the sofa, she caught hold of Zane's shoulders, turning him to face her and hold him in place.

“Zane, if she asks about Dev and the other night, deny any knowledge of it. Do you understand?”

“But you said lying to people is bad.”

“This isn't people, Zane. This is the Red Lady, and this could save your life.” She gripped him tightly with shaking hands. “Make an exception in this case. When you're there, be respectful, polite, and tell her as little as you can without being rude.”

“As little as I can about what?”

“Anything. Everything.”

Her fear began to leech into him. “Mum, why would she want to see me? Is she going to mark me like she did with Dev?”

Miri swallowed hard and tried her best to look brave. “I'm sure she won't do that … why would she?”

Zane shrugged uneasily.

Miri glanced at the box and then said more confidently, “She won't mark you, Zane, I'm sure of it.”

He nodded with relief.

“And whilst you're there,” Miri continued, “don't eat or drink anything. Not a thing.”

“But it's nearly lunchtime!”

“Not a thing, Zane. Promise me.”

Zane searched her fearful eyes and nodded slowly. “I promise.”

“I'll make you your favourite mash to have when you get home, alright?” Miri drew him into a tight embrace. “Now wait here whilst I get the box ready.”

She kissed his cheek and then scooped up the box and rushed into her bedroom. Zane listened to the sounds of drawers in her apothecary chest being hurriedly opened and closed.

He shifted from one foot to the other until she called out, “Put on some clean clothes and wash your hands! And comb your hair too!”

He obeyed, and by the time he re-emerged from his room, she was waiting by the door, the box tucked under her arm.

“Mum, what if I don't want to go?”

Miri sighed. “I don't think that's an option, Zane. The Red Lady is very powerful. Try not to annoy or upset her … just be lovely like you always are …. but less … chatty …” Miri frowned at herself and then leant forward to kiss his forehead tenderly. “I'll be here waiting for you.”

She unlocked the door to find Luthor waiting nearby. She gave him the box and he gave her his usual brisk nod in return. Then his attention shifted to Zane. He squeezed his mother's hand briefly, stood as tall and straight as he could, and went to the Hunter's side to walk with him out of the square.

“Um … is it true that you're the Red Lady's Champion?” Zane took the first minutes of the journey to muster the courage to ask the question.

Luthor glanced down at the youth and nodded.

“What does that mean exactly?”

Luthor's face distorted into an unfamiliar smile. “It means I am the fastest, the strongest, the best Hunter, the one the Red Lady turns to first,” he announced proudly. Zane had the feeling that he was about to say more, but nothing followed.

“Oh. That must be … nice.”

“Nice?” Luthor scoffed. “Nice is how a woman would describe a dress. What I speak of is the highest honour.” He drew in a deep breath, expanding his chest so much that it blocked the sunlight falling onto Zane's face. “No other man will ever take my place.”

Zane remained silent, now too unsure of his choice of words to say anything more. He had to hurry to keep up with Luthor's huge strides.

It was the first time Zane had travelled so far from home in the daytime. Even though it was really only a short walk, this was a route that he had only dared once, that night with Dev. He had been taught from a very early age that anywhere except the garden and the Boys' square was unsafe, and so walking between two territories in broad daylight was a very odd experience.

The buildings lining the streets they walked through were similar to those in Miri's square; built several storeys high with dark bricks and large sash windows. His mother said the houses used to be some of the smartest in London, but now they were grey and dilapidated, nature having found every crack and crevice through which it could reassert itself. London's buildings were losing the quiet war with plants and he wondered if one day there would be any buildings left at all. As they walked past,
Zane was particularly fascinated by the curious shapes of the rusting ventilation system that lay behind the hospital in which he and Dev had seen the Giant. What could that have been for? How did people make metal into those shapes when it was so hard? How did it all get here in the first place?

Luthor walked with the confidence of a man who knew that no sane individual would dare attack him. As for any lunatic that might try, it was clear that he could slaughter them as easily as Miri would wrench a weed from the ground. His eyes scanned their surroundings constantly and he attended to any change in noise or distant sounds as they walked, but without any nervousness.

Before long they reached the edge of the Red Lady's territory, marked by huge daubs of red that looked like dried blood on the corners of the buildings at the end of Gray's Inn Road. Zane looked at them and his paced slowed; they hadn't been visible that night he had ventured into the territory with Dev. Luthor must have detected his fear and said to him, “I grant you entry into the Red Lady's territory by her command, so you have nothing to fear.”

Zane looked down the road, the whitewashed walls coming into view, resplendent in the summer sunshine. The impressive red silk banners, stretched taut against the walls, were spotless, the same red as the fletching of Luthor's arrows. Knowing that he was permitted to be here did nothing to allay his fears.

Luthor escorted him to gates made of stout wood set into the wall. They were over twice the height of the Hunter, with no visible spy hole or any discernible point of weakness. Luthor signalled to a Hunter watching their approach from on top of the wall, who in turn signalled to someone below him, out of sight. In moments there was a loud thunk and scraping sound as the bolts that held the gates shut were drawn back.

Zane's legs were becoming uncooperative and he was
half escorted, half pushed past two guards on either side of the gates, both with arrows notched. They were dressed in the same linen and leather clothing as Luthor and were clearly also strong, but without his bulk. The guards watched Zane enter, and then one with dark brown hair drawn back into a long braid like Luthor's withdrew the arrow, slung the bow over his shoulder, and approached purposefully.

The Hunter reached out with both hands towards Zane. Startled by the intrusion of his personal space, Zane said, “Hey!” and backed away, only to feel Luthor's hand catch the back of his neck and hold him in place with a firm grip.

“Stand still. He is going to check you for weapons,” Luthor instructed, not removing his hand.

Zane tensed as the other Hunter ran his hands over his shirt and patted his legs. Zane didn't ever carry a knife and he was appalled that the Hunter thought he would. Only the Bloomsbury Boys did that, and only the ones who knew how to use them. Jay was very strict about that.

“Strange prey that you bring today.” The guard's dismissive voice rumbled over Zane's head, aimed at Luthor.

“Just check him, David,” he replied curtly, making no attempt to hide his dislike of the Hunter.

The man finally gave Luthor a nod and Zane was released. He tugged his shirt down, annoyed by the mocking looks that the guards had given him. He straightened himself up as best he could, but they simply looked back at him steadily until he lowered his eyes. They laughed at him.

Embarrassed, he let Luthor push him farther in as the heavy wooden doors were slammed shut behind them.

Few people had seen the interior of this place, and Zane was acutely aware of this. None of the Bloomsbury Boys save Dev, who couldn't remember anyway, had stepped foot into the inner part of the Red Lady's territory. He recalled being told that the Red Lady was the last person that a trespasser would ever see, as soon after being condemned by her they would be blinded or killed. Zane had always thought that these were simply scary stories that the Boys loved to frighten each other with at night, but now that he was actually here, they came back to him with a visceral quality. Images of the way the Hunters pounced upon Dev and the new scars on his face flashed in his mind.

The courtyard through which Luthor steered him was surrounded on three sides by tall, four storey high brick buildings, not unlike those in his mother's square, but these were all well cared for and clearly still in use, as several of the windows were open on the upper storeys.

The smell of food wafted from one of the open windows of the large building along with the gentle clamour of many people eating within. Zane's own stomach growled and he longed for a taste of whatever it was that smelt so good.

Luthor directed him to a large set of double doors with a steady pressure applied to the small of his back. Zane felt that Luthor didn't want him to have time to take in all of the details of the place.

A small set of steps led up to two grand wooden doors that looked heavy and thick, proportioned as if for men twenty feet tall, with two huge polished brass handles too big for any mere mortal to grasp in one hand. Again, they were flanked by two guards, both just as strong as those on the gate and with
their hands on the hilt of the large swords hanging from their belts. Luthor nodded to both briskly, and they opened the doors for them to go through.

The interior was cool and shadowy after the glare of the noon sun. The floor alone arrested Zane's attention, as the pale marble shone unlike any surface he had ever seen; it was a world away from the wooden floorboards and faded rugs of his own home. A pair of large doors stood to his left, a grand staircase swept up in front of him, and a corridor stretched away to his right. The air smelt sweet as Zane recognised lavender, but it was laced with something else, something musky, unlike anything he had ever smelt before.

Luthor propelled him towards the doors to his left. A single guard, the biggest yet, but still not as impressive as Luthor, looked Zane up and down with barely disguised surprise and then opened the door at Luthor's nod. As the heavy wooden door was swung open, Luthor's hand went to the back of his head, pushing it down so that he faced the floor as if in deference. Zane wanted to shove him away, but was mindful of how much stronger Luthor was.

A beautiful polished floor, the colour of dark honey, stretched ahead of him. He was aware of the size of the room and how light it was. One large window was to his left in his peripheral vision; it was open and thin gauze curtains were teased by the gentle breeze.

That heady, unfamiliar scent was stronger here, and Zane felt the presence of someone at the far end of the room, but with Luthor's hand still firm on the back of his head, he couldn't look up to see who it was. He was manoeuvred further in and heard the doors shut behind them with a loud, deep thud that briefly drowned out his thrumming heart.

“Bring him closer, Luthor,” a voice said. It was soft yet commanding and floated from a place beyond where he could see. His heart splashed against his chest. It was the first
feminine voice he had ever heard that wasn't his mother's, and something rich in its tone made him desperate to look up and see what its creator looked like.

Luthor did her bidding, and a shallow step in the same gleaming wood as the floor came into Zane's field of vision.